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by orphan_account



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Cutting, Depression, Gen, Insanity, Insomnia, Self Harm, Sleep Deprivation, hallucination, trigger - Freeform, trigger warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-19
Updated: 2014-06-19
Packaged: 2018-02-05 07:54:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1810963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A day in the life of an insomniac: Ray Narvaez Jr.</p><p>---</p><p>Ray stared up at his ceiling with dull glassy eyes. Eyes that were red, tired, half closed, and underlined with dark circles.</p><p>Eyes that's stared up at that stained ceiling that lay above his bed- at the same ceiling that stared back at him on the countless hours of lack of sleep.</p>
            </blockquote>





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**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this on my iphone so please excuse any grammar or punctuation mistakes.
> 
> Thank you <3

2 DAYS

 

Ray stared up at his ceiling with dull glassy eyes. Eyes that were red, tired, half closed, and underlined with dark circles.

Eyes that's stared up at that stained ceiling that lay above his bed- at the same ceiling that stared back at him on the countless hours of lack of sleep.

The static that admitted from the Tv attempted sorely to lull him to sleep. But the constant drip that reverberated from the bathroom kept him from doing so. That and his insomnia.

Ray peeled his eyes away from the ceiling towards the slightly ajar bathroom door. It seemed to taunt him, hiss at him. And he just stared at the door.

Ray urged to move to mess with the shower faucet again, but each movement he'd make underneath the soft cotton comforters burned. 

Everything ached and hurt from old and new cuts that were littered from his body.

Cutting hasn't hurt for a long time, only afterwards, and it's been a long time since it ever helped his situation. It suddenly became an addiction, a habit, apart of his daily routine. He really couldn't help it.

Before a shower usually. And according to his nose, he really needed a shower.

He groaned and sat up, wincing at the pain of cuts being tugged as his muscles worked to get him up and out of his bed.

He stumbled into the bathroom, and quickly opened the mirror to grab three bottles of sleeping pills. He popped the lids off of all and took two pills from each bottle. He glared as the drip from the shower head continued to mock him.

Drip drip.

He glared as one of them came up short, spitting out one pill and remaining empty. after Ray gave it a few shakes, he decided he'll ask Tina for her to get some more later.

Drip drip.

He popped one in his mouth each at a time and swallowed harshly. He's since gotten used to dry swallowing pills.

Drip drip.

He put the sleeping pills away, knowing very well they're not going to work, but it was worth a try. He looked at the cupboard further and fished out a razor. 

Drip drip.

Ray twirled it in his fingers and sighed before closing the cupboard only to be greeted with his reflection.

Drip drip.

He looked like shit. His hair was overgrown and he needed a desperate shave. His eyes were hollow and sunken in, red and black.

Drip drip.

He had a permanent frown pulled at his face and he sighed roughly. Usually the sight would have made him cry, but he hasn't cried in a long time.

Drip drip.

He ignored the reflection staring at him and placed his arm routinely over the sink. But at the sight of his arm, it was already crowded. He looked towards his other arm and it was the same deal. 

Drip drip.

He didn't like cutting his right arm anyhow, sometimes his left hand would slip and it wouldn't stop bleeding.

Drip drip.

He wouldn't cut his stomach, it was skinny as it already is and didn't need anymore damage. And his thighs, well, the hair made the blood clot and clump easier. However that never stopped him from shaving but he hasn't done that in a long time.

Drip drip.

Collar bone it is.

He pressed the cool slick blade against the bone, leaning harshly into the blade to refrain from applying pressure by hand, and he slowly pulled.

Drip drip.

It didn't hurt, the feeling could only be described as a tugging, reminding him of fishing.

Drip drip.

Really, the only thing that hurt was watching himself doing it. Since he couldn't exactly look at it, he instead stared at his reflection, watching the tendons in his hand and neck strain as the blood began to drop from the bone.

Drip drip.

And despite the lack of pain, he still winced horribly.

Drip drip.

The look of pain in his face caused his eyes to swell. Okay, maybe he had lied about crying in a long time. But it was a reflex from the lack of sleep- hysterically crying. Never has he cried over the problems that push against him.

Drip drip.

Never has he cried for the reasons he's bleeding for.

Drip drip.

Sometimes the blood loss helped him sleep too. It made him very dizzy. 

Drip drip.

He added another cut to the collection, his stomach churning in his throat at the amount of blood that was starting to show.

Drip drip.

He couldn't feel his heartbeat in his chest but he could feel his pulse in his wrists as he pressed harder this time, leaning in further towards the mirror and the blade.

Drip drip.

He pulled away after this cut, the look of split skin caused his stomach to calm this time. He looks down at the blood that littered his fingertips and the blade.

Drip drip.

He dropped the blade in the sink, adding to the drips of blood that already had began to collect.

Drip drip.

Ray leaned forward and tilted his head up to stretch the skin across his collarbone tighter to allow the skin to split further.

Drip drip.

He watched this time as the blood spilled off of his chest and into the sink, mesmerized.

Drip drip.

Eventually he peeled from his boxers, putting a hand under his collarbone to keep from the blood hitting the floor, and leaned into the shower to turn on the heated water.

And once that was done, he decided to give it time to warm up by washing the excess amount of blood down the drain the sink.

Turning off the sink, he quickly maneuvered into the shower with ease. He let out a sigh as the steamy water hit and reddened his skin.

He didn't wince when the water bore into the fresh wound, the horrible stinging all too familiar, he just let it wash out and watched the silky red liquid run from his chest and swirl down the drain.

He quickly washed his hair and soaped his body before stepping out and dabbing his skin with a towel. The bleeding had stopped, so he didn't have to get out the bandaids this time.

He disregarded the towel and his previous boxers on the ground, and opened his bathroom door and made his way towards his closet.

And upon hearing the jingle of keys entering into his apartment, he began to dig out for an old pair of sweatpants and a sweatshirt, careful of pulling it over his head.

He shuffled down the hallway and into the kitchen, not minding Tina who sat flipping through the mail at an old, warn kitchen table.

His stomach gargled and he opened the fridge to grab the milk.

"Tina I need a haircut. Do you think you could-"

"No. Ray I don't know how to cut hair, and neither do you, or anybody else in this building. You're going to have to go out and do it yourself."

Ray huffed. Tina always was able to get to the point of things, no bullshit no story. She wasn't always like this, her strict stature began to turn this way when he began to... Well, turn into what he is now.

Her strictness was completely needed, otherwise Ray wouldn't be able to get anything done.

He rolled his eyes and turned to grabbed the cereal from the cupboard, milk in hand, and turned to protest with Tina but stopped midspeech to see she was gone.

He sighed and grabbed the Cheerios.

Recently, Tina and her noise has become so real that Ray would completely forget that she was a figment, a made up character slave to his mind.

Either way, she helped.

He tore off his sweatshirt and sighed, letting his wounds breath, before grabbing a bowl and spoon to eat.

He glanced at the clock when he shoved the cereal into his mouth, 6:00 pm.

He's been awake for nearly two days now. That's how it usually is before he's able to sleep. His record time of lack of sleep has been 5 days, nearly 120 hours.

That was a bad time. Just laying in bed and watching the clock not move, even while not moving, he hallucinated madly and paranoia rung his neck like a knoose by just lying in bed.

Ray finished his cereal and washed it out and tossed it in the dishwasher, mentally noting he's going to have to run it soon, and made his way back to bed in hopes that the sleeping pills will kick in.

 

\---

 

4 DAYS

 

The sleeping pills hadn't kicked in.

The routine has not changed.


End file.
